The Homeric Hymns eBook

“Foolish ones, enduring hearts, who desire cares,
and sore toil, and all straits! A light word
will I speak to you, do ye consider it. Let each
one of you, knife in right hand, be ever slaughtering
sheep that in abundance shall ever be yours, all the
flocks that the renowned tribes of men bring hither
to me. Yours it is to guard my temple, and receive
the tribes of men that gather hither, doing, above
all, as my will enjoins. But if any vain word
be spoken, or vain deed wrought, or violence after
the manner of mortal men, then shall others be your
masters, and hold you in thraldom for ever. {133}
I have spoken all, do thou keep it in thy heart.”

Even so, fare thou well, son of Zeus and Leto, but
I shall remember both thee and another song.

II. HERMES

Of Hermes sing, O Muse, the son of Zeus and Maia,
Lord of Cyllene, and Arcadia rich in sheep, the fortune-bearing
Herald of the Gods, him whom Maia bore, the fair-tressed
nymph, that lay in the arms of Zeus; a shamefaced
nymph was she, shunning the assembly of the blessed
Gods, dwelling within a shadowy cave. Therein
was Cronion wont to embrace the fair-tressed nymph
in the deep of night, when sweet sleep held white-armed
Hera, the immortal Gods knowing it not, nor mortal
men.

But when the mind of great Zeus was fulfilled, and
over her the tenth moon stood in the sky, the
babe was born to light, and all was made manifest;
yea, then she bore a child of many a wile and cunning
counsel, a robber, a driver of the kine, a captain
of raiders, a watcher of the night, a thief of the
gates, who soon should show forth deeds renowned among
the deathless Gods. Born in the dawn, by midday
well he harped, and in the evening stole the cattle
of Apollo the Far-darter, on that fourth day of the
month wherein lady Maia bore him. Who, when he
leaped from the immortal knees of his mother, lay
not long in the sacred cradle, but sped forth to seek
the cattle of Apollo, crossing the threshold of the
high-roofed cave. There found he a tortoise,
and won endless delight, for lo, it was Hermes that
first made of the tortoise a minstrel. The creature
met him at the outer door, as she fed on the rich
grass in front of the dwelling, waddling along, at
sight whereof the luck-bringing son of Zeus laughed,
and straightway spoke, saying:

“Lo, a lucky omen for me, not by me to be mocked!
Hail, darling and dancer, friend of the feast, welcome
art thou! whence gatst thou the gay garment, a speckled
shell, thou, a mountain-dwelling tortoise? Nay,
I will carry thee within, and a boon shalt thou be
to me, not by me to be scorned, nay, thou shalt first
serve my turn. Best it is to bide at home, since
danger is abroad. Living shalt thou be a spell
against ill witchery, and dead, then a right sweet
music-maker.”

[Hermes making the lyre. Bronze relief in the
British Museum (Fourth Century B.C.): lang136.jpg]